


Do Not Disturb

by Otterly



Category: Zootopia (2016)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-03-31
Updated: 2017-03-31
Packaged: 2018-10-18 06:08:01
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,397
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10610850
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Otterly/pseuds/Otterly
Summary: Hospitality knows no ends at The Lighthouse Hotel and Inn. Located in a small town in Outback Island, the hotel houses many tourists and wayward travellers from all walks of life. Mia Alecton's the owner. Or at least, she's going to be. Her family started the place, and now she helps run things.Young, single, and much too generous for her own good, she rents out the empty rooms to people behind her father's back. All cash. No credit trail. Full privacy. No criminals. Just a bed for the night for half price, for kids who really need one.For some reason, though, her clandestine guests are getting weirder and weirder. Hopefully this isn't a trend.





	

Apparently, bats can’t wear dresses.

Makes sense enough, yeah, despite how adamant certain Fuzzfeed articles are on modes of dress not being contained to certain species. Bats fly everywhere. Don’t want mammals looking under your skirt, because that’s definitely gonna happen. Especially if you’re gonna be roosting at all. Especially if you’re sat at a hole in the wall with drunk teenagers either from or freshly out of the local high school, like I am now.

Every perk appealing to irresponsible kids that can’t buy booze is offered here: None of the bartenders care for real ID, as long as you have a plastic card with your picture on it, and the location of this place is stupidly hard to find without local knowledge. Most importantly, though: any funny stuff goes down in here, the staff don't talk about it.

Perfect place for a Timbr meetup.

Tonights date is a tiger! Real exotic. His name’s Tyler...last name. Zootopian. Main city, obviously. His accent makes me laugh. Hobbies include: karaoke, taking care of pups, and sunbathing. His profile forgot to mention his warm, comfy shoulder and his ability to chat up a storm. An interesting storm. One that I really don’t mind raining on me, if you know what I mean.

I still don’t know, though. I mean, he’s perfect, but I don’t know, you know? Sometimes perfect can be too perfect. I don’t want to get into anything bad. Come to think of it, that’s probably why I’m single despite my constant efforts.

My stripey seat clears his throat, poised to ask me something for once.

“So,” I hear him growl playfully, Kangqueray still heavy in his breath. “You got a job?”

Geez.

“That’s a loaded question,” is the only response he gets from me before I take another drink.

There’s a displacement in the air as his ears twitch. I’ve been a bit shitty with conversing all night — long day — so this little ounce of flesh is enough to bring his curiosity out of the woodwork.

“Try me,” he begs.

“Define ‘job’.”

His fur scritches as he makes the universal gesture for money with his fingers.

“Kind of,” I tell him. “Not really. I don’t know.”

A moment passes. I look to the side, feeling bashful even though we’re both faced the same way. “I help around my dad’s hotel. Safety inspections. Informal, obviously, but an actual inspector’s never caught us off guard because of them. Aesthetic inspections, too. Gotta keep the rooms looking pretty down to the pen on the desk. I’m certified and all that, and I have free time that dad doesn’t have.”

“That’s really cool, actually,” No, it’s not. “What, you get free room service and stuff too?”

“Sure, but why would I need to? I have a house here.”

“Don’t know. Staycations and stuff. Sometimes it’s just enough to do something different even if you’re in the same place afterwards.”

“If you ever use that word again I’m going to fly out of here and never come back.”

He laughs, and my heart melts, against my will.

“Well, if you’re a hotelier––“

“Not a hotelier.”

“Could you maybe get us a room?”

My purr comes out of me before I can recognize it as one. “Rowr.”

His face fluff brushes against me as he smiles.

“Hey,” I pipe up. “Tiger tongues are supposed to be rough, aren’t they? And strong? Strong is kind of a given, given your genes are all that, but still. You think you could make me bleed? From licking. Not claws. Just out of curiosity.”

Before Tyler can answer me, my phone rings.

I stand, murmuring apologetically. “Hold that thought?”

Before he nods (and he does), I fly into the top corner of the bar and push the bathroom door open. BATroom door, according to the cheeky label on the front. The lights shine half as bright as they do in the main area, but at least the mirrors are nice.

From what I can see of the black cocktail dress I picked out for tonight, all thirteen inches of my body looks pretty fucking cute. The shine of the fabric is perfect. Blends in with my fur, but just barely catches the light so it doesn’t look like I’m naked after a second glance. Oh, and it guarantees a second glance.

I flick the softly beeping Zootooth headseat on my left ear, miniaturized so it looks like an earring. The call connects, and I put on my best 'business' voice. “This is Mia.”

“Mia Alecton. Little black flying fox, long hair, piercings?”

“Got rid of the piercings a while back, and my hair’s at a pixie kind of length now, but yeah. I’m her,” I ruffle my dress, adjusting the way that it drapes around my body. “I don’t recognize your voice. Do you need me?”

“Of course you wouldn’t,” the voice in my ear laughs. “We only spent three years in the same english class together back in high school.”

He’s male, sounds tall, deep like a pred but not with the same kind of pretense… “Oh, hey! Juno! No, totally, I know you. Makes sense why you have my number. What’s up, mate?”

“I can explain. Meet me at your hotel?”

I bite my lip. “Uh, kind of in the middle of something. I’d need you to pay premium.”

“Deal.”

“What.”

“I’ll meet you in 15 minutes. Please”

“Wait––“

He hangs up before I can finish, and now I have no other option but to open my doors for business.

When I fly down, Tyler’s face makes it look like he was expecting this to happen. Do I really give off that vibe? I pace back and forth on the scratched up bar table, hoping that I don’t step in old beer and get my feet all sticky.

“Look,” My wings curl up and unfurl nervously. “You’re really sweet.”

The smile he gives me only helps the building urge to fly into a power line. “I get it. Duty calls?”

I shrug, flapping my wings in preparation for my flight. “Money, more like. I really am sorry. Didn’t mean to waste your time.”

He stops me and proceeds to stroke a few fingers over my head and down my back. “It’s all good. It’s not like I had anything better to do, anyway. Call me? Or, at least, tell if you’re not going to ever call me again.”

I shiver in response. Yes. I should probably say yes. That’s a very small ‘probably’, though. I think. Still, this is probably as good as I’m gonna get on Timbr. The rest of the guys I’ve met are either weird fetishists or someone had no idea I was so small. I bite my lip, struggling with an answer before murmuring a tortured “I’ll let you know.”

Tyler’s response is cut off by my polite smile, and I’m up in the air and out of the bar before I can change my mind.

 

* * *

 

The view of Bearron Bay from two hundred feet above the ground is stupid amazing. I can see why we haven’t been torn down yet. On my left sits the town and its tiny houses, and on my right is a giant beach, along with the longest successive line of hotels in the Zootopian area curled around it. The sun shines radiantly across the water, creating a glowing sheen that trails back to the main city’s landscape painting of a skyline.

Tourists are right to come here for vacation. Outback Island in general’s always been a nice blend of Sahara Square and the Nocturnal District, for those who like ocean waves and good beer with their casinos and nightclubs. Bearron Bay is a little prudish on that second part, but most that end up coming by end up partying by the water anyway. Nothing like a bonfire in the summer.

That’s my inner sales coordinator talking, though. There are bad parts to this town. Mostly the mammals. Lots of stir-crazy kids dreaming about skipping town. Plenty of kids that are just plain crazy, too. We have a nice variety of everything, I think.

I tuck my wings in and drop, shooting towards the Hospitality Strip. The last hotel is my destination -- has been for most days of my life.

It takes me a few more minutes of flying before I can actually see it, but when I finally get to the front I stop and admire it a little. The best (and second most expensive) hotel on the strip. The Lighthouse.

My family's hotel sits wide where the other resorts stand tall. It’s cut sharp and clean, like the pristine white that dominates its color scheme. There’s a distinctly futurist vibe carved into every pearly divot of the building’s structure. Everything you could want from a hotel sits inside. Dad wanted it so the outside looked way cooler than the average mammal’s home, but the inside every room felt like it genuinely could be.

Smiling to myself as I fly through the automatic doors, I wonder if Juno's at all as impressed as I always am.

I find him waiting in the lobby, sitting away from me and completely changed from his lanky high school self.

Curving up and landing on the table in front of him, I spy what may be the ideal alpha male kangaroo. Rippling muscles, perfect definition (though his shoulders could stand some more work) and a vibe about him that tells everyone in the room that he’s ready to fight. The only major criticism I have is the stupid shades he has on, inside of a building.

His nose wiggles, and he tilts his head. “Mia?”

“That’s me,” I give him an unenthusiastic wave. “Let’s get up to the room. Elevator’s just to the right.”

Juno blinks. Or, I think he does, behind his shades. No other explanation for the awkward silence he’s dragging us into right now. He scratches his head and looks off to the side. “I, uh, I can’t see.”

“Oh, that’s because its off in a hall behind the main desk. Don’t worry about it.”

“Mia, no. I cannot see. Out of my eyes. I’m blind. Gone blind since we last knew each other.”

Well, I’m a cunt. “What?” My balance takes a moment to teeter too far forward as I hop up to him and nearly fall off the table. “The hell happened? No, wait. You don’t have to talk about it. C’mon.”

We manage to get to the elevator once I fly up and guide him to it from his shoulder. He lets me press the call button, and as soon as the bell chimes, we step in.

Suddenly, everything is leagues more awkward than they would have been.

I press the penthouse button and close the doors. A quiet piano plays us up the four floors of the hotel, carrying us into the only open room tonight. No one’ll be disturbing us here. I’m just supposed to be taking note of any mistakes left by the last cleaning shift.

“How was your day?” I ask, fidgeting a little.

“Fine. You smell like tiger.”

“Nice nose. I was on a Timbr date. Tyler. He had a Zootopian accent.”

“So do we.”

“City.”

“We’re apart of the city.”

“It’s not the same.”  
  
A moment goes by, and I know that he’s contemplating saying something from the slight twitch of his mouth. Like he’s testing out how the words are going to sound out loud before he actually says them.

“Sorry about interrupting your night.” he mutters.

I wait another second before telling him that it’s okay, but the ding of the elevator reaching its destination interrupts me.

We step out, and I guide Juno the the giant door to our left. I spring from his shoulder to the doorknob and type in the correct number sequence on the keypad above it. 8-8-5-4-3-2-8-0-6. The light at the top of the keypad turns yellow, and I hear the crackle of static as it waits for my voice.

“Please open the door, Mr. Keypad.” I sing.

The light turns green, and the buzzing that follows it makes me smile gratefully. I come back to Juno’s shoulder, and he leads us into what we fittingly call the Green Light Apartment.

Pure luxury greets me, spanning the length of 9000 square feet lined with two huge glass floor-to-ceiling windows. We make our way into the living room, passing the TV and the giant couch surrounding it in a U shape, over to the lonely coffee table in front of one of the best views of Zootopia in existence.

Juno takes a seat and lets me off his shoulder, where I scramble to the small mammal seat placed on the other side of the table. If I was a wolf right now, my tail would be threatening to thrash itself off. “So, what do you think? I mean, I know I can’t really ask you that but oh my god, I love this room! We got a lot of space in here for anything you need, so just tell me if you need anything, alright?”

Now that I think about it... “Why are we here, anyway? Forgot to ask for that explanation earlier. Landlord kick you out? Ah, but then you wouldn’t be able to pay me seventeen hundred dollars. Fight with your ex-girlfriend, then? Apartment haunted by ghosts? Whoever gave you my number -- sorry if it was me and I don’t remember -- told you that I don’t do law stuff, yeah? One hint of illegal shit and I call the cops.”

Leaning back in his seat, he sighs. “Does the city look nice?”

“Okay, nothing to do with my question, but it does,” I admit, nearly commenting on how that is a really big fucking understatement.

The blue-black night sky serves as a perfect backdrop to the smattering of yellow lights across the strait, illuminating the city’s odd-but-beautiful buildings from behind and giving them an almost ethereal glow. One of the bigger towers’ lights change color occasionally -- The Palm Hotel, I assume. Several other buildings do the same, though I’m not sure what their purpose is for.

Zootopia is a marvel of a modern metropolis. Mammals around here tend to talk about it like it’s heaven and we’re in purgatory, and looking at it now, I completely understand the hype.

“Heaven, isn’t it?”

My head snaps from the city to the kangaroo. “How did you––“

“We all get that look when we look at it. Sometimes I feel like I can hear when someone else is getting it. Was I right?”

“Not bad, Beardevil.”

He laughs. The sweetness that it brings to my ears reminds me of a certain tiger I left behind at a bar. “It’s not gonna last.”

I tilt my head. “What do you mean?”

“The skyline. It’s gonna go out tonight.”

“Uh?”

“There’s a lot going on right now, Mia. I couldn’t be at home. Too much evidence. I had to be somewhere easy and private. Then I remembered: I knew the perfect sky rat for that.”

“S-So,” I stutter. “Some storm I hadn’t heard about?”

Unfortunately, Juno shakes his head. He sits up straighter and starts to tap on the table with a claw. “End of the world, Mia. You probably don’t want a full explanation. No one does. No one should have to know. But look at that skyline -- that little slice of heaven that the children of the Bay worship. The lights will go within the hour, and then we’ll all be dead.”

It’s been some time since I’ve had someone like this, but it was bound to happen.

“Oh!” he seems to remember something. “While the offer’s still up, you think you could get me a root beer real quick?”

This is my job. The inspections are just my father’s form of giving me chores. It’s not officiated, and it’s shady from an outsider’s perspective, and I don’t really have an employer, but I get good money. Really good money, if the client’s paying my premium prices.

People who need a place to stay, usually teens who can’t go home after getting too drunk or are walking out on their parents before catching the next bus to Zootopia, they all come to me. I know what rooms are empty for the night, and the staff that don’t talk if they hear noise coming from them.

Empty rooms for half the price, and not a single trace of it on paper.

Juno’s not first client I’m housing that’s a little screwed in the head, but he’ll definitely be the first that came here alone. Usually there’s a friend with the crazies. Someone reasonable. But at least he knows me. Less chance of spontaneously murdering me. Maybe.

I swing by the fridge under the bar for a sec, popping it open and hauling an average sized root beer out of the pack of six within. Ferrying back and forth between the table and the bar kills the next minute, but soon enough we’re both quenching our thirst with two dollar drinks in a three thousand dollar hotel room.

At the very least, this is going to make for a good story to tell a friend. Or a good date story. Tyler did make sure to give me his number when we first met up, maybe I’ll take him up on his offer. Someday.

Speaking of, the reason for my night gone awry clears his throat. “So, what is there to do in here?”

"Sleep, eat, drink. All the things that I'm gonna do, but not in this room." I turn to leave, wanting to get the fuck out of here but he leans forward before I can.

"Whoa, whoa, whoa! Why not hang out for a bit?"

"Well, what did you have in mind?"

"That's what I was asking you!"

“Dad had a private gym installed in one of the side pockets of this place,” I reply, sarcastic but telling the truth. “You could work out.”

“Alright.” he nods and stands up, completely up for it. Even a little...excited?

“What, seriously?” I take an accusatory slurp from my bottle of root beer. “It’s the end of the world, isn’t it? Why don’t you sleep or something? Make my night easier? I could hardly think that someone would actually want to spend their last hour sweaty and exhausted.”

“Says the girl who’s obviously mad she isn’t sweaty and exhausted right now.”

My ears burn hotly as I jump up from my seat. “Hey! Piss off!”

“Sorry,” he snickers, struggling to stuff his cheeky smirk. “You’re very cute. You know that?”

He’s not wrong, but I flutter my wings anyway, annoyed. “So you really want to work out?”

“Afraid you’ll get all hot and bothered?”

“Hardly. And if I do you won’t be able to see it.” I flutter my wings again. “Sorry. That was mean.”

“It’s alright.” Juno stands and takes a full step in the wrong direction before turning back to me. “Where is this gym, again?”

 

* * *

 

A click comes out of Juno’s mouth, in the same direction of the sandbag lion standing static in the middle of the boxing ring. I had to help set it up -- always a pain in the ass. What I get in exchange is pretty sweet, though. Juno’s been making a show of it ever since we stepped into the gym.

He clicks again, for safety. When he’s sure he knows where the lion is, he runs full speed to the side of the ropes, jumps up and into them perfectly. The plastic groans as the ropes absorb his weight, curving slowly before slingshotting him towards his target. At the very last moment he stretches out, slamming his two feet perfectly onto the lion’s chest. It rebounds backwards, bending backwards at an angle only to bounce right back up.

The dummy’s momentum stops before it can lean forward and headbutt a now ducking Juno, and it leans back into its original position.

What I’m seeing now is something I’ve only seen on TV, on those semi-documentary shows about mammals with disabilities that actually have super cool talents that let them function in life anyway: A perfect sync of echolocation and spatial awareness. I take back the sarcasm from my earlier remark. Juno is literally Beardevil, apart from not being a bear.

Once he’s taken a break from beating the poor inanimate lion, I speak up. “Man, I thought this was gonna be really awkward, but that was the best thing I’ve seen all month. No exaggeration. Where did you even, like, _learn_ to do that? Hell, why even bother with being guided around?”

“The -– hff, –– the clicking’s obnoxious. Impractical, too. Things quickly passing by are hard to avoid.”

“But you have superpowers! Kind of.”

The kangaroo doesn’t answer me, stretching before snagging a stray bottle of water off the floor.

“You’ve probably seen Ratatouille. Probably, right? That’s not a speciest thing to assume?” he pants before taking a drink.

I raise an eyebrow in response, before hastily remembering that he can’t see in the first place. “A film about a small rodent who aspires to be something more, lets an anteater borrow his talent, and ends up becoming the first rat to work in a five star restaurant? I could hardly find that relatable. Stayed home while it was still at the movies.”

“So you have. Seen it, I mean.”

“Yes!” I groan. “I’ve seen Ratatouille.”

He turns his back to me, crouching ever so slightly. “Get on.”

My wings guide me to the back of his head before I make them. Something in his voice. I try to grip his ears best I can, feet slightly digging into both his shoulders.

“That’s good.” his voice rumbles from below me. “Exactly what I needed you to do.”

“And we are...?”

“Together,” he starts to explain as he strides over to the punching bag. “We’re going to beat the shit out of that lion without echolocation.”

“You’re kidding.” I try and sneak a peek at his face, but from an angle like this it’s barely discernible. “What the hell are you talking about?”

“Push my ear.” Juno whispers, an undertone of giddiness coming into his voice.

This is dumb. I apply pressure to his ear, moving it forward.

I’m nearly thrown off as he throws a jab at the sandbag lion, first landing with a perfectly satisfying smack.

“Shut. Up,” I gasp excitedly. “This is stupid. We look stupid.”

I move his other ear, living vicariously through the hard cross he lands against the lion’s cheek.

“No. No way.” I shake my head. “Absolutely no way I’m going to play pretend with you for any longer.”

His left foot steps back when I tap mine, switching stances. Moving his ear sideways and forwards causes him to throw a hook, and the punch crashes violently through the lion’s chin. I have to hold on for dear life as he twists.

I scuff my right foot sideways, and we move laterally, launching punches as we arrive at the lion’s side.

We’re in sync, now, and we both giggle madly.

“Okay,” I admit. “This is _amazing_.”

We throw another punch.

And another.

Wailing on the expressionless lion with all I can think to do and all he can listen.

Time passes fast, and before I can even process how much has gone by we’re both exhausted. More him than me, of course. I’m barely sweating, just a bit overloaded from the adrenaline.

“Have fun?” Juno exhales shakily, making for his water bottle.

“Fun? You turn yourself into a mammal equivalent of a giant robot and let me knock around a lion sized punching bag and you even need to ask?” I rattle off at him, talking at a mile a minute.

“Good, good.” he sighs, content. “And now you can see. That’s why I’ve been alright with being guided.”

“Cause you can crush whoever’s guiding you?”

Swallowing a mouthful of water, he shakes his head. “Because it feels good to help whoever’s guiding feel better, and the way I can do that is to let them help me. Not a one to one analogy, I know. It was fun though, yeah?”

“Yeah,” I agree. “It was. Hey, look, I can’t do this anymore. Mate, the world isn’t ending.”

“Yep. I know.”

Whoa. What? “You _know?_ What, you gave me a fake story?”

Juno ducks under the ropes, and we walk towards the gym door. “Just give me a second, Mia. Can I have that? I’ll explain things to you.”

Saying no won’t do anything for me right now, so I don’t say anything.

 

* * *

 

What was supposed to be five minutes left of existence, and we’re both back where we started. On a normal night, I would have left after introducing the client to the room. We would have chatted a little, maybe, but its rare that I get anyone who doesn’t want complete privacy for at least some of their stay.

The skyline as it is now is even better than it was during sunset. Later in the night equals brighter light, I think. The Palm’s ceased its color changing, opting for a nice true blue glow that I assume will stay until sunrise. It blends nicely with the gold of some of the other buildings. The reflection of the lights on the water is harder to see now, but that’s only because it has to compete with the moon and the stars.

If only I could be here every night. Honestly. Can’t get tired of this view.

A surge of pity wells up in my chest, and I turn to Juno, frowning in sympathy before remembering that he lied to me for some god forsaken reason.

The kangaroo’s sitting perfectly in his seat, idly stroking the arm of his chair. He’s turned towards the view outside, wearing what I can only call a pensive expression.

“I remember what they called you, now.” he says abruptly, making me jump. “All night I’ve been trying to remember, but now I know. You’ve been at this for a while, huh? Softwater High’s Angel On Your Shoulder.”

The nickname makes my fur tingle and my ears twitch.

Somehow picking up on my slight agitation, Juno laughs. “Don’t be so sensitive. It’s a good name.”

“It’s too much,” I tell him. “Never liked it.”

His smile shows me all I need to know about his disagreement, but he doesn’t press any further. Instead, he leans in and says, “So I should probably tell you why I’m here.”

“Not really,” I deadpan. “It’s not required. Which is weird, because you gave me a reason anyway. That’s what you should be explaining. If you wanted a gym, you could have just asked, you know. I don’t mind renting the hotel one out.”

“No, I didn’t need the gym,” Juno stands and walks to the glass, giving a soft click as he approaches. “The workout was nice but I’m actually here for you.”

“Me? _Me?_  What, you couldn’t have just said that outright? Or hit me up on, like, Zoogle plus?”

“Nah,” he shakes his head, and I shrink into myself for some reason. “I had to see for myself. As best I could.”

“See what?” I squint at him. “You some kind of stalker, Juno?”

A laugh rumbles out of him, and the fact that he’s treating the idea like its absolutely ridiculous makes it so I can hardly maintain the thought. Still, I had to put it out there. If not some weird stalker guy, why’s he here? He puts a paw on the cold glass, stroking it like a surprisingly soft blanket. “I had to see how you’d react.”

“To what?”

He turns to face me, and I swear to god the way that he singles in on my face half convinces me that he can see. “Take care, Mia. We’ll see each other again.”

“Where are you going?” I ask, standing up.

He doesn’t answer me.

On his way out he pulls out a thick wad of cash and leaves it beside me. When the door closes behind him, the sound echoes across the room, bouncing from wall to wall until I suddenly can’t hear it anymore, dying abruptly like an old computer.

I finish my root beer, staring at the skyline before a quiet chime arises in my ear. I give it a tap, and a mechanical voice reads out the incoming text.

“B-T-W. That tiger looked nice.”

* * *

 

There’s a distinct scent of Musk Mask in the air of this bathroom, combined with an all too pleasant undertone of soap. I step into the washbasin, tiger cum almost clogging my nose, doing my best to think about the last hour and not a minute past that.

The calming stream of the tap’s water is like a sensual massage for my mind, and as the water pours down on my head I focus on its sound. After my body’s wet enough I step to the side and run a wing under the soft stream of water flowing from the tap, watching a combination of clear and translucent white liquid wash off of it and swirl down into the drain.

Halfway through my shower, I hear the wooden creak of the door.

In enters the source of my messy self. He’s got nothing on, save for a pair of ankle highs that he was too excited to get out of when I first swung by.

Nothing happens. I simply get on with my cleaning, and Tyler stands. He leans against the doorway, watching me closely. Oddly enough, I don’t mind. Never liked being watched in the first place, but the tiger’s eyes keep me safe. They don’t judge.

Eventually he clears his throat. “Should I shower too?”

“C’mere. Let’s find out.”

He prowls over to me, and I step out of the tap’s stream. A humongous paw is offered to me, nervous despite the carnal actions it was carrying out not minutes before. I take a sniff at its matted fur, letting his scent flood my nose again. It’s powerful, to say the least, but not overbearing. “You’re fine, hon.”

“Pet names, already? I think I can work with that.”

“Stop talking, right now.”

Fingers nudge me into the water again, and a claw scritches my back as I lather soap into my black fur. “Thanks.”

“Don’t mention it.”

“That’s too bad. I’m going to anyway.”

When I’m finally clean, Tyler picks me up and holds me close. I stare into the mirror, smiling at the sight of a giant kitten and his living ball of yarn. He offers me a small towel, and while I dry off in his hands, he walks out of the bathroom, sitting us on the corner of the bed.

Once I’m finished he tosses the towel to the floor for me, and curls us up under the covers. I end up nestled in the crook of his neck, where his fluff is the warmest and the most abundant.

“I smell,” he warns.

“Good. You smell good.” I add, turning his lie into the truth. “Sorry I came by so abruptly.”

“It’s okay. Like I said: I have nothing better to do,” A moment passes. “You alright?”

“The world is ending soon,” I exhale, closing my eyes, leaning against his face. Juno’s text stands clear in my mind, despite my best efforts. He wasn’t here, like I thought he was going to be. He wasn’t anywhere when I looked.

And I was here, so why not? The cunt was a ghost. I wasn’t going to find him tonight if I had all the money in the world.

Warmth lingers all around me, turning the dark into a comfy place. My only tether to the world is my breath and this tiger’s nose. I stroke it more, gently drifting away with each motion of my hand. The possibility’s never occurred to me before, but it hits me that this could very well be my last moment alive.

I suppose there could be worse things than a warm bed and an unsolved mystery to face the end with.

This isn't the end though. It better not be. That would really piss me off.

God, I hope I wake up tomorrow.


End file.
